


Port in a Storm

by Crewe



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Immortals, Other, Sharing a Bed, Travis is terrible and also they love each other ok, post-Burzha Nyth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21937747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crewe/pseuds/Crewe
Summary: Travis doesn't want a lonely eternity. Gable is very good at putting up with him.
Relationships: Gable/Travis Matagot
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	Port in a Storm

There was a light on in the captain's quarters when Travis slipped past the night watch and approached. He tried pushing it open with no real hope of success and sure enough found it locked; doubtless Gable kept it locked to avoid anyone barging in and seeing the captain staring dead-eyed at the wall in the middle of the night, but Travis couldn't help but feel like they _also_ did it to keep _him_ out. They took such glee in keeping him from getting his way.

The joke was on them, though; Travis wasn't one to let a little inconvenience stand in the way of inflicting himself on someone else. Especially when it could so easily be passed off onto someone else. To this end, he simply sat down, fluffy white tail wrapped primly around his paws, and started clawing insistently at the door.

In a game of irritating chicken, Travis was confident in his ability to win out over Gable every time. Sure enough, he only had to break out the tactic of pausing just long enough for them to think he'd given up and then redoubling his efforts once before he heard a sigh followed by heavy footfalls inside the room and the door eased open, revealing Gable's best unamused face.

"What do you want, Travis?" they asked, resigned. "It's late."

"Booty call," he said flippantly, as he slipped in through the cracked door and past their ankles to jump up on the bed, ignoring their huff. There was a book laying open on the small nightstand beneath the hanging lantern, and Travis leaned over to inspect it out of principle.

Gable shooed him away before he could make out more than a spare word or two, reclaiming their place on the bed. They picked up the book again and resumed reading, apparently content to ignore Travis entirely. Well. They'd see about that.

"Speaking of booty calls," he said, pleased at the dirty look Gable shot them over their book, "How did your time with Helga go?"

Gable went very still, their hands flexing around the book. _Interesting_. Pretending not to notice, Travis settled himself comfortably along their thigh, resting his head in their lap and sighing contentedly. The captain's bed was really just _so_ much nicer than the crew hammocks.

"Hildred," Gable finally said in a low, tightly controlled voice. "Her name was Hildred."

"That's what I said," Travis sniffed. "Helga."

"Travis," Gable growled.

Travis rolled his head sideways and looked up at them with one eye. Their new short hair was ruffled, framing their face like a halo cast in shadow by the flickering light of the lantern. It was a fun sort of irony and he kept looking, basking in their glower.

"Well, are you going to tell me?" he asked when they didn't continue.

Gable maintained their glare for another few seconds to really hammer home their displeasure before finally they sighed and broke eye contact. "Shut up, Travis," they said wearily, dropping one large hand from the book to his head to shove him away.

Travis allowed himself to be pushed, then pushed back, pressing his head into their palm. Gable made a sound in the back of their throat somewhere between annoyed and amused and relented, lightly running their hand down his furry back.

Travis gave a satisfied hum, his eyes sliding closed. He was terribly comfortable, squeezed between Gable's warm bulk and the hull of the ship, fur prickling with pleasure under the weight of their hand and attention. "It's alright if you don't tell me now," he said, his words starting to run together. "I'll find out eventually. We have forever, after all."

Gable's hand paused its strokes and Travis flicked an ear in protest. After a second they huffed and started scratching with dull fingernails around its base, right in his favorite spot. Travis sighed in pleasure and tilted his head to give them better access.

"You said something like that after your fight with Tiberius," Gable said softly. "Forever, huh? You wanna talk about it?"

Well. He most certainly did _not_ , and he also rather wished he'd done a better job of keeping a lid on things that night. Though in his defense, he had just been through a rather traumatic experience. Not to mention all the blood he'd been losing. He had less of an excuse _now_ but, well, he was just _so_ comfortable, things… slipped out.

"Travis?" Gable asked when he didn't reply, lightly shaking the fur at his ruff. They sounded amused, damn them. This sort of teasing was supposed to go the other way, and Travis didn't care for a flip in the dynamic.

He let out a loud, theatrical snore. Gable laughed, a single short, surprised "Ha!" and tugged lightly on one of his ears. "Fine," they said, struggling to maintain a facade of irritation. "I'll find out eventually."

Travis snored again.

After a moment, Gable gave a soft, "Alright," and took their hand away. There was some quiet rustling for a few moments, and then Travis could sense the cabin going dark. Gable shifted, jostling Travis as they laid down on the bed. Travis squirmed around until he found a comfortable position with his back pressed against their side, his muzzle resting on their bicep as they curled their arm loosely around him.

"Good night, Travis," Gable said, warm and close.

Travis would respond, but he wasn't sure what would come out of his mouth if he opened it right then. Instead he pressed himself more firmly into the space between their arm and their body. He felt a nigh-inaudible laugh as a vibration in their side and smiled to himself, relaxing into a puddle of warm coyote as he let himself slide slowly into sleep for real. He figured they'd got the message.

\--

Being back on the ship meant being back to potato duty, and this time Jonnit had been given strict instructions not to help. Travis was of the mind that if the boy was gullible enough to be talked into doing math for him he deserved it, but of course Spit didn't care about what _Travis_ thought was fair. So it was up to him to count the potatoes.

Heavy footfalls signaled Gable's arrival. Travis glanced back to see them leaning against the doorframe to the storeroom out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn around.

"If you want a potato, you'll have to wait," he said airily, picking one up and weighing it in his hand. "If Spit sees any unauthorized potatoes around he'll complain at me for _hours_."

"I don't want a potato," Gable said, pushing off of the doorframe and ambling over to lean on some crates beside him instead. They sounded amused, but with that edge of exasperation they so often had while talking to him.

"Well I haven't counted anything else, so I guess if you just snuck something while my back was turned no one would notice. Not that I would ever encourage such behavior. I'm a _very responsible_ quartermaster, after all." Travis put the potato back in the crate and turned to face Gable, brushing his hands together. 

Gable snorted. "I'm not here for food, Travis," they said. "Not that you should be offering me any," they added with a stern look. Travis smiled innocently back in response and they shook their head. Travis couldn't help but notice the way their short hair moved in new and interesting ways around their face as they did. "I wanted to... talk. To you."

"I don't know, I'm just _so_ busy with these potatoes," Travis drawled with a broad grin, leaning back against the crate and making no move to return to counting.

Gable gave him a _look_ and his grin widened. Then they shifted back against their crate and broke eye contact, casting their eyes upwards towards the ceiling. They crossed their arms, the fingers on one hand tapping restlessly against their bicep. Travis mirrored their pose but kept looking at them, eyebrows raised curiously.

"After your fight with Tiberius, when you were… injured," they finally began, and Travis tensed, eyes flicking over to the exit and back automatically. Leave it to Gable not to leave well enough alone. "You said a lot of things, most of them… strange. But you also said… that not being able to die wasn't so bad, because you would have me." Gable looked back at him, their piercing gaze pinning him to the crate he leaned on. "Or something like that."

Travis swallowed, breaking eye contact to carefully study his fingernails instead. "Well, you know, I was delirious," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I was losing a lot of blood, after all. You can't take anything I said too seriously."

Gable hummed in acknowledgement, but Travis could still feel their eyes boring into him even without looking. "And then last night, you said we had forever. Are you planning on sticking with me that long, Travis?"

Travis looked over at the door again, trying very hard not to make it look like he was planning an escape. The animal in him wanted to _run_ , very badly, but he felt pinned in place, unable to break away with Gable _looking_ at them like that.

He swallowed again. "Well," he said, drawing out the word. "I think you can forgive me a little _hyperbole_ but, ah… I mean, we have a good thing going here, don't you think?"

"Travis," Gable said, their voice a low, serious rumble. "You don't know anything about me."

Travis scoffed, finally making eye contact just to give them a disparaging look. "Please," he said. "You're not that mysterious."

Gable straightened up. Now besides looking troubled they looked _annoyed_. Travis felt a little closer to being back on familiar footing; there was clearly something going on here he didn't know about, but Gable being annoyed with him for not taking something seriously enough? That he was intimately familiar with. "You don't even know why I'm here," they said, slowly pacing over until they were in Travis's space, looming over him.

Travis rolled his eyes, and Gable took his chin in one large hand and forced him to look them in the eye. "What if I did something _terrible_?" they asked in a low, heavy whisper.

Travis looked up at them, at those eyes like lightning, and laughed. "Gable," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Who _cares_?"

Gable's eyes darted across his face, searching for any signs of artifice. Travis let them look, for once with nothing to hide. _Who cared_ what crime Gable committed that had them stripped of their wings and cast down to the earth? What mattered to Travis was that they were _here_ , and would remain so. He wasn't alone. Wouldn't _be_ alone.

Gable must have seen something of what he was thinking, because some of the tension in their shoulders relaxed and they let out a laugh that was mostly just an exhale. "You really are just awful, aren't you?" they said, with more genuine fondness than Travis was used to hearing from them.

Travis grinned at them. "I'm just so understanding, is all. A paragon of virtue, really."

Gable tightened their grip on his chin, a smile threatening to mar their dour expression. "Shut up," they said, and leaned in to kiss him.

Travis maintained enough dignity not to throw his arms around Gable's neck and climb them like a tree, but he did lean ever so slightly into their hand as they shifted from holding him in place to cupping his jaw. "So?" he asked as Gable drew back just a little, staying firmly in his space.

"So what?" they asked, raising their eyebrows.

"Are you going to tell me what you did, or not?" Travis asked, mirroring them.

Gable laughed, the sound surprised out of them. They looked down at him with nigh-unprecedented warmth, thumb sweeping across his jaw. "You'll find out eventually," they teased. "We have plenty of time."

"Forever," Travis said with less irony than he'd really intended, finally reaching out to touch, laying his hands on Gable's broad chest.

Gable smiled. "Forever," they agreed, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Chrysler have some Trable because I am THOROUGHLY on my bullshit


End file.
